One Last Time
by cre8iveovadose
Summary: Blaine is drowning in a depressive episode that has completely consumed his mind, body and soul. But when he accidentally goes too far, the usual suspects are there to help him. One last time. The final addition to my Second Chance verse. Klaine. Nickbastian.
1. Chapter 1

Title: One Last Time

Rating: M

Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe, Nick Duvall, Kurt Hummel

Summary: Blaine is drowning in a depressive episode that has completely consumed his mind, body and soul. But when he accidentally goes too far, the usual suspects are there to help him. One last time. The final addition to my Second Chance verse. Klaine. Nickbastian.

Warnings: Self harm, swearing,

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or these characters but I'll always be thankful for their existence.

Notes: A part of my Second Chance verse, set after "Five Year Reunion". I was very sure that I'd finished Sebastian's story but I wasn't happy with where I'd left Blaine's. So here, five years after I posted the original story, is my final addition to Second Chance. Thank you to everyone who has read and supported this verse. I can't express how much it's meant to me.

 **ONE LAST TIME**

 **Chapter 1:**

People don't care about mental illness until it becomes physiological. That's what Blaine had been telling himself since he started hurting himself again. With no work, no auditions, and no reason to stay clean, he'd relapsed a month ago. Kurt was in Boston doing previews for a revival of _The Normal Heart_ and Rachel had finally moved out with Jesse so Blaine had had the loft to himself. And while misery loved company, depression loved solitude even more.

The only reason Blaine had left the house in the last month was to buy fresh blades and bandages. The kids he taught to play piano came to him and so did all manner of take-out food and, when he was desperate, alcohol. When the creaking and groaning of the building at night would keep him awake, he'd drink himself to sleep. And if that didn't work, he always had his blades.

His arm was a mess after four weeks. He couldn't see the old scars anymore – not even the one from his suicide attempt before he'd started at Dalton. And the itching was driving him mad. But he couldn't stop. He refused to stop.

After three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, Blaine had nothing left to do until eleven o'clock Monday morning. Once he'd watched his last pupil of the day walk down the street and turn the corner, he grabbed his wallet, phone and keys and headed down to the store.

At first, Blaine had tried to go to different stores each time he bought blades and bandages together but when he realised that most people didn't make the connection – or care – he had stuck to the store down the street. He'd become so familiar with their layout that he barely had to focus his eyes as he walked through the narrow aisles to where they stacked the medicinal supplies.

Staring at the bandages and dressings and bandaids and gauze pads, Blaine tried to pretend to be browsing, pressing his wrist against his stomach while he fingered his keys in his pocket. The pain glided over his brain but it ebbed too quickly. He reached out for a bandage when his phone rang in his other pocket.

Looking at the screen, he saw that Kurt was calling. With a deep breath, he answered the phone and forced a smile onto his face. It was the least he could do. Kurt's were the only calls he answered anymore.

"Hey, how are you?" Blaine asked, his eyes lingering on the shelf of bandages.

"I'm fantastic. This is such an amazing experience, Blaine. I wish you could be here with me. We had the best show last night. I wanted to call you and tell you about it last night but I figured you'd be asleep and-"

Kurt's words faded to the usual buzz of post-show enthusiasm Blaine had grown accustomed to hearing the last few weeks. Everything was wonderful and Kurt would never get sick of performing this show with this cast and he couldn't wait until they moved to Broadway in another month. He wished this had all happened before the Dalton reunion so that he could have shared it with all the guys.

"Sebastian actually called me the other day. I don't remember if I told you."

Blaine's brain came back to itself. "Sebastian called?"

"Yeah. He and Nick are coming to New York at the weekend and wanted to catch up. They left Violet with Sebastian's parents and came out for some relaxation. I think they got in this morning? I can't remember. I told them to call you, since I'm here."

"Right, they might have called while I was with a student. I haven't checked my messages yet."

"Well make sure that you do. They'd love to see you."

"I'll give them a call."

"Anything else new with you?"

 _I'm cutting myself again_.

"Nope. Same old, same old."

"No auditions or anything?"

"Not yet."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure something will come up soon."

"Hopefully."

"Crap, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, okay? Try to catch up with Sebastian and Nick, yeah?" Kurt blew a couple of kisses into the phone. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Kurt had already hung up.

Blaine flicked through his missed calls and texts and saw that both Nick and Sebastian had tried to call him. Only Sebastian had left a message.

" _Hey Anderson, just calling to ask what you're up to this weekend. Nick and I are in New York and wondered if you wanted to catch up Saturday some time. Call us back and let us know. We'd love to see you._ "

Blaine shoved his phone back into his pocket before he grabbed two bandages, ducked into the next aisle for a new packet of blades, and went to the register to pay.

While he was waiting, his eyes drifted over the different boxes of pain medications they kept behind the counter. The red of the Tylenol packaging seemed to beckon to him but he shook the idea out of his head. He couldn't do that again. Not knowing what had happened with Sebastian and his liver transplant.

The tiny girl behind the counter glanced at him with wary eyes as she rang up his items.

"Are you okay?" she asked after giving Blaine the price.

"I'm fine," he said with a small smile as he handed her the money. "Thank you. Keep the change." He grabbed his purchases and shoved them into the pockets of his jacket as he started the walk back home.

As he was climbing the stairs back into the apartment, his phone started ringing again. He checked to see who was calling, in case it was Kurt again, but it was only Nick. He bit his lip before answering the phone and holding it to his ear.

"Hey Nick, sorry I missed your call earlier. How are you?"

"I'm good," Nick said, his smile obvious in his voice. "We're in New York! We're having a late lunch in Times Square."

"Hey, Blaine," Sebastian called, barely audible over the din of cars and crowds on their end.

"That's awesome. Got much planned?"

"We're gonna go see _Dear Evan Hansen_ tonight. We wanted to see _Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812_ but they closed a couple weeks back. We were so disappointed. But we were thinking of coming to see you tomorrow. What's a good time for you?"

"Um, I'm not really sure." Blaine heaved the apartment door open, stepping inside, and pulling it shut before he leaned back against it. "Whatever works for you. I don't have anything planned."

"Shall we come get you for breakfast then? About nine thirty?"

Blaine bit his lip, trying to calculate how much sleep he would get if the loft was creaky tonight. Glancing at himself in the mirror Kurt kept by the door, he knew it wouldn't matter how much sleep he got. He'd still look like crap.

"That works," he said into the phone. You remember the way here?"

"Sebastian is nodding his head so I guess we do," Nick laughed. "See you at nine thirty then."

"See you." Blaine waited for the line to disconnect before he dropped his arm and leaned his head back against the door to look up at the dingy ceiling.

He had a little over sixteen hours to compose himself. He couldn't see that happening.

At the very least he would need to shower. And a shower with warm water meant his veins would come to the surface. And that meant he could cut.

He hated that that made the idea seem worthwhile.

Blaine took the new bandages and blades into the bathroom and put them away before he went into the bedroom to find clean clothes for tomorrow. He decided on the red and blue cardigan with a plain black bow tie on a white shirt. His black jeans were the only ones that were clean – well, smelled clean. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done laundry.

He quickly went around emptying the small waste baskets Kurt had dotted around the apartment of any bloody tissues before he cleared out the inedible food from the refrigerator. When he came back from taking out the trash, the only thing left to do was shower and the idea made his heart flutter.

In the bathroom Blaine carefully undressed, being sure not to knock or pull on the dressings that had stuck to his arms all through the day from when he'd cut that morning. Standing in just his boxers, he took a deep breath before he looked down at his arms. The bandage around his left arm was still crisp white on the outside but he knew there'd be bloodstains further down. The dressing on his right wrist however was black with dried blood.

Slowly, Blaine unravelled the bandage. He bit back yelps of pain when it clung to his skin before finally coming away to reveal dry, red skin and tiny droplets of blood. He flexed his fingers and felt the skin burn with the movement before he turned to his other wrist. He bit his lip before he started to peel away the dressing. It came away stiff, curved around where it had rested on his wrist all day. Blood welled up where cuts reopened against the red mass of scar tissue he'd made. The mere air stung the skin and it made him dizzy with pain to flex this hand.

With his left hand, Blaine turned on the shower and watched the water stream down until steam started to rise up. He wriggled out of his boxers and stepped into the tub, grabbing the soap to wash his hands first. As he lathered them up, droplets of water splashed onto his wrists and he barely contained the scream that burst from his lungs as his right arm began to sting and throb. He jerked back from the water, rinsing his hands quickly before he clamped his fingers over the wounds. The stinging got worse and his eyelids flickered closed. He felt the pain and the pain felt him until they found a happy medium and Blaine went back to his shower.

He washed himself, feeling the grime of the past few days disappear, before he carefully cleaned up his arms. He chewed on his lip as the wounds throbbed before he held them under the warm water, watching them get red from the heat and the pressure. He didn't know why it had taken him this long to figure out that heat made him bleed more but he was glad he had figured it out eventually.

Getting out of the shower, he towelled himself off and pulled on fresh underwear and one of Kurt's undershirts since all of his were dirty. He had an old Dalton sweatshirt on the couch that he'd put on later but he'd be fine for now. He didn't put any pants on. After his blood had soaked through a towel onto his forest green chinos, he hadn't wanted to risk it. He grabbed the blades and bandages from the medicine cabinet and sat cross-legged on the floor with a towel in his lap.

Blaine studied his scars, trying to figure out where this relapse had started, but there was no way to tell anymore. The cuts were too many and too close together to tell. People thought you couldn't hurt yourself with safety razors but he had plenty of proof right in front of him.

He took up a fresh blade, looking at how it glistened in the low light, before he drew it across his left wrist. The metal bit down and blood bloomed in its wake. The pain plucked at Blaine's nerves and smoothed out all the wrinkles in his brain. The tension was sapped from his shoulders and he sighed as he cut again.

Sitting on the floor of the bathroom, Blaine watched himself bleed and felt himself hurt. He felt his blood run cold down his arms to pool on the towel in his lap. His fingers twitched and his hands trembled as he took shuddering breaths. He wondered how much blood he was losing as it came faster and faster. He wondered if he should stop.

When the blade dulled and the towel was wet with blood, Blaine wound bandages around his arms. His arms felt cold and sticky where the blood coated his skin but he wasn't worried. This was the calmest he'd felt in days. When he got to his feet, his arms began to throb and he felt his head swim with pain. He felt a bit faint so he staggered out of the bathroom towards the bedroom. He thought he heard his phone ringing but he couldn't remember where he'd left it.

Collapsing into bed, Blaine barely registered the pain shooting through him or the feeling of blood soaking through bandages. He just snuggled into the pillows and felt himself drift away. He hoped he'd wake up in time to see Sebastian and Nick. He missed them.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: One Last Time

Rating: M

Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe, Nick Duvall, Kurt Hummel

Warnings: Self harm, swearing

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or these characters but I'll always be thankful for their existence.

 **Chapter 2:**

Blaine hadn't had such vivid or painful dreams for years.

In the first one he was on a raft going down a raging river, being rocked from side to side until his arms were black and blue. After dodging some sharp rocks and a waterfall, Blaine thought the river would calm down and tried to go back to sleep only to roll right off the raft and plunge into the water. The current dragged him under and everything was black for a while.

When the next dream came, Blaine found himself back at Dalton with Nick and Sebastian. They were yelling at him for breaking up with Kurt but Blaine didn't understand what they were talking about.

"Why the fuck would you do this after everything you've taught me!" Sebastian yelled. "You know better than this, Blaine!"

He pushed that dream away until he was back in the blackness but it felt cold now. He couldn't find a new dream. He was just alone.

When he came back to the light, Blaine wasn't sure if he was asleep or not anymore. Everything seemed bright and loud and it smelled funny but he couldn't move. He couldn't talk. He tried focusing his eyes but he was so tired. When he blinked, his eyes stayed shut and he fell asleep again.

Sleep ebbed and flowed over him for what felt like days until he woke with an unusual clarity. Clarity he was used to only feeling after he'd cut. He looked around and realised he wasn't in the loft anymore. The ceiling was white and something was beeping in time with the throb of blood in his ears. He tried to move his fingers but they wouldn't co-operate. He could feel soft blankets beneath his hands though, and another hand next to his right.

Looking over, he saw a head of chestnut hair leaned on the edge of his bed by his arm. His heavily bandaged arm with tubes weaved into the mass of gauze. His throat tightened and his chest burned with breath as he tried to remember what happened.

He'd cut. And there had been so much blood. And – " _Oh god_."

The chestnut head moved and swore before a cool hand pressed against Blaine's face.

"It's okay, Blaine, you're alright. You're in the hospital but it's okay."

The voice was familiar but Blaine had never heard it like this. He'd never heard it panicked. Except for when-

"Sebastian. You're here. You're-"

"Yes, Blaine, I'm here. Just breathe, okay?" He forced a short laugh. "You'll pass out with how fast you're breathing."

Blaine closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeper but memories swam up from his subconscious. "You hurt yourself. You called me because you hurt yourself."

"Yeah, back in high school. Seems you picked up a couple of my tricks that night, Anderson. Let me guess, a shower that was too hot and so much blood you couldn't keep track?"

Blaine opened his eyes and finally found Sebastian's eyes. He'd never seen them so full of worry. He'd never seen Sebastian so pale and dishevelled. Not even when he'd been concussed on the day of his wedding.

"You found me. When you and Nick came for breakfast."

"You didn't answer the door but you hadn't locked it either. We walked in and you were unconscious in bed, completely covered in blood. We could barely tell if you were-" Sebastian grimaced and shrugged one shoulder. "Doesn't matter now. You're alive, that's all that matters."

"Does Kurt know?"

Sebastian nodded. "He's downstairs with Nick getting something to eat. He's been worried sick. He couldn't believe you hid this from him. Neither could I really."

"I didn't mean to."

Sebastian bit his lip but he didn't answer. He was staring at his hands, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down and holding them in place with his fingers against his palms.

"Seb?"

"No one ever means to, Blaine," he whispered. "But you still almost died. You still scared the shit out of me and Nick. Why didn't you tell anyone that you were sick again? We would have helped you."

Blaine looked away. "People don't care about mental illness until they can see it."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"Is it? No one knew you were sick until you called me to rescue you. My parents didn't realise until I slit my wrists when I was fucking fourteen. Nobody cares about things they can't see. No one even cared that I was gay until they saw me holding hands with a boy. Then they decided they needed to beat the crap out of me to teach me a lesson. Nobody cares."

Sebastian got to his feet. "I'm not fighting with you about this, Blaine. If you want to destroy yourself, that's fine. I won't stop you. But don't expect me to come to the rescue next time you try to kill yourself." He grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself! I just – I didn't know what else to do."

Sebastian shook his head as he turned back to Blaine. "You know that isn't true. I know that you know it. Because you said it to me, time and again, whenever I was afraid I'd relapse or when I did relapse and I didn't know how to stop. This doesn't control you, Blaine. You control it. And you can stop whenever you want to."

Blaine looked down at his arms, swathed in bandages, before he looked back to Sebastian. "Help me, then. Please?"

Sebastian glanced out the door before he sighed and nodded. "One last time, Blaine. Because honestly? I think if you get this bad again, it'll kill you."

"How do you know?"

He walked back to his spot beside the bed and sat down. "Because that's how it almost got me."

Blaine watched shadows of memories float through Sebastian's eyes before someone knocked on the door. Looking over, they saw Kurt and Nick standing in the doorway. Kurt's face seemed smudged somehow and his shirt was wrinkled in ways that Blaine knew only came from being hunched over crying.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered, slowly stepping into the room.

" _Kurt_."

Kurt sobbed and tears streamed down his face as he sunk into the chair to Blaine's left and held his head in his hands. "I'm so glad you're alive," he sobbed.

"Me too."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Kurt asked, wiping at his tears. "I would've – I would've come home, I would've brought you up to Boston, I would've called you every hour if you needed me to. I would've helped you."

"You can help me now."

Kurt bit his lip. "Do you want me to? Because it really doesn't feel like you want my help right now. Not if you've been doing this for – god knows how long."

Blaine glanced to Sebastian before he shrugged one shoulder. "Things got out of hand. I didn't mean for any of it to get this bad. I don't want it to get this bad ever again."

"Are you sure?"

Blaine nodded. "I want to get better. For good, this time."

Kurt stood up only to lean down and hug Blaine. "We'll get through this. Together. So that we never have to do this again. Just this once."

Blaine nodded, wishing he had strength to hug Kurt back.

When Kurt pulled away, he and Blaine looked to Sebastian and Nick.

"One last time, yeah Blaine?" Sebastian asked.

Blaine nodded. "One last time."

All four of them knew it would never be that simple. Blaine and Sebastian especially knew that this would be a war they fought for the rest of their lives. But they would make it through. They had built up a friendship, forged in flame, that they would never lose. They would have each other for forever but they would never find themselves in a hospital covered in cuts again. They had another second chance and they would use it to recover. One last time.


End file.
